


i'm only human (after all)

by mindelan



Series: missing scenes [2]
Category: La Reina del Sur (TV), Queen of the South (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Mission, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Tending to Wounds, set right after 3x03, taking care of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindelan/pseuds/mindelan
Summary: A quiet moment between James and Teresa that's spent tending to wounds and talking.post 3x03.





	i'm only human (after all)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "human" by rag'n'bone man

Just because the plane had taken off out of Malta doesn’t mean that there isn’t still work for them to do.

The next hour is spent checking on the girls, making sure that none of them have life-threatening wounds that can’t be treated with their limited medical supplies. A couple of George’s men have grazes from stray bullets, but miraculously, there’s nothing more than that.

 _Well_ –– except for her.

Teresa stands in the back of the ship, one arm wrapped around her side to brace her ribs. At the very least, they’re bruised, but considering that she’s someone who’s sustained a lot of injuries in the past year, she suspects one or two of them are broken. As the adrenaline starts to leave her body, so does her strength –– shoulders sagging, headache building behind her eyes, limbs heavy.

Fuck, she’s tired.  

Most of the girls have fallen asleep, with heads on each other’s shoulders and relaxed features, but there are a few who are still awake. She recognizes the looks in their eyes, knowing that they have self-appointed themselves as lookouts in case of danger. As much as she wants to reassure them that they’re finally safe, it wouldn’t do any good. She’s been in their position before, and can see the loyalty built between them from times of hardship and desperation.

Memories of the girl she used to be flash in her mind, and she swallows down the bile that rises in her throat. She’s not that girl anymore. She got out and so have they.

 _(her soul feels lighter, despite the inevitable consequences her actions will bring._ )

That's something she still has to remind herself. _She got out._

Exhaustion drags her body down. Teresa shares a look with Pote, and at his reassuring nod that he’ll watch over everything, she heads farther back into the ship. James is nowhere in sight, but she’d seen him head into the cockpit a few minutes earlier, likely to make sure that the pilot is still following their orders. If she lingers for a couple seconds, waiting to see if he’ll come back out, he’s not there to witness it.

There’s a small corner that she ducks into for some privacy, sliding her back against the wall until she’s sitting on the ground. She takes a shuddering breath and runs her hands through her hair, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes to ward off the moisture that for some reason had started to gather there.

“Teresa.”

James’s deep, raspy voice has her raising her head to glare at him, eyes squinting to see him properly as his tall form blocks off most of the light. In another life, she knows she would have jumped at his sudden presence, but not now. She trusts him, knows that he wouldn’t hurt her, so his interruption of her thoughts barely startles her.

Funny how far they’ve gotten since the first time they’ve met.

“How’s the pilot?” she asks, tilting her head back until it rests against the wall and she can close her eyes. The cool metal soothes her aching head, and she thinks, rather absently, that she could fall asleep like this.

If only she didn’t have so much work to do.

“Cooperating,” he replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “It helps that we’re bribing him.”

She smiles faintly, a soft laugh working its way out of her throat. There’s a pause that hangs heavy in the air, permeated only by the thrum of the engine underneath their feet and soft conversations in the other room. It’s quiet enough where she thinks he’s left –– that is, until she cracks open an eye to see him still standing over her, hand scratching the back of his neck.

Never one to talk when there’s nothing to say, she looks up at him until he speaks. “Listen,” he says, seeming slightly uncomfortable in a way she hasn’t seen from him before, “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

“I’m fine.” Except for the ribs and the superficial cuts on her face and the headache, of course. But his concern lights a spot inside of her, a faint flush spreading over her cheeks despite herself. “Really. It’s nothing.”

She closes her eyes again, wanting to get a couple hours of sleep before they reach the United States, but James crouches down in front of her, touches her face and startles her out of a light doze.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he orders, thumb absently stroking a line on her cheekbone. She doesn’t think he even realizes he’s doing it. “Your pupils are dilated. Did you hit your head?”

“Yes.” The fall hadn’t killed her like it had the other woman, but she had cracked the back of her skull against the concrete floor instead. Her eyes fall shut once again. “Once. In the vault.”

“Teresa, listen to me,” the sheer urgency in his voice breaks her out of her stupor, and she blinks up at him. When did he get so close to her? And how had she never noticed the beauty in his eyes before?

_Shit._

“It looks like you have a concussion. I don’t think it’s bad, but,” he leans back on his heels, resting his hands on his knees, but she can still feel his breath on her face, “you need to stay awake until the danger’s passed. Are you bleeding?”

Her reply is honest, hands creeping behind her head and tangling through her matted, dirty hair. She hasn’t noticed any bleeding, but that didn’t mean that it isn’t.  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

James reaches forward once again, but his hands hover, not touching her like before. He looks uncertain, like he’s crossed some sort of boundary that she doesn’t understand. “Let me check. Please.”

She drops her chin in agreement, letting her head fall forward onto her knees so he can see it better. His fingers are hesitant at first, combing through her hair with the utmost care. She almost wants to tell him that he won’t break her, that she’s stronger than that, but after a day full of gunfire and fighting, she appreciates the gentleness.

She wouldn’t have expected it from a man like him.

When he pulls away, he tips her chin up as he moves, forcing her to sit up straighter and look him in the eye. “There’s blood, but it’s old,” he says, shrugging off his jacket in one fluid moment and handing it to her. She looks at it, confused, glancing toward him, but he takes it from her hands and tucks it behind her head, like a pillow. “To stop the bleeding if it starts again.”

He moves to sit next to her, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other one bent toward his chest. The space is small, not much room in between them, so their thighs touch. Neither of them move away. She doesn’t know if James notices, but she can feel the heat of him through her pants. He rests his arm against his knee and tilts his head to look at her better.

She scowls, but very slowly begins to let her body relax. “I don’t need some  _pendejo_ babysitter.”

He ignores her words, choosing instead to ask, “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I think I broke a couple ribs,” she says, probing gently at her side and wincing at the sudden pain.

“Don’t do that, Teresa,” he snaps, reaching to grab the hand that’s causing her the pain. She scoffs, tugging it back. “Don’t touch them.”

“I’ve broken ribs before,” she tells him, resting her head back on his jacket but moving her face so she can make eye contact with him. “I’m fine. You worry too much.”

“I can’t just let my boss die on the job.”

“I’m sure Camila loved that.”

“She did, actually,” he remarks offhandedly. Pressed up as close as they are to each other, she feels rather than sees him shrug. “Saved her life more times than I can count.”

Loyalty’s his thing, she knows that. While she doesn’t know much else about him, about who he is or where he came from, his loyalty to Camila had been unyielding. And if she’s judged him correctly, than she’s made the right decision in allowing him to work with her.

The silence between them now is comfortable, and Teresa is perfectly happy to rest quietly, but as soon as her eyes slip close for more than a few seconds, James’s voice breaks through it. “You need to stay awake.”

“I know,” she murmurs, forcing herself upwards into a better position, fighting against the slump in her shoulders and the lead in her limbs. “I know, James.”

“Then actually do it,” he shoots back, but there’s humor underlying his words. “Prove me wrong.”

If there’s one thing that drives most of her motives, it’s spite –– and they both know it.

“I should fire you,” she mutters, but keeps her eyes open anyway. It’s an empty threat, and he knows it, judging by the smirk that appears on his face. “You want me to stay awake so badly, then help me out here.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Distract me. Talk.”

“About what, _princesa?_ ”

“Tell me about you.” At his look of confusion, she continues, “There’s more to you than just guns and fighting. I know there is.” She doesn’t say there’s good in him, not again, because she knows he’ll just deny it.

He’s silent for a while, weighing her words. She can practically see the gears in his mind turning as he considers an answer. After a few minutes of silence, she debates closing her eyes again just to hear him speak.

“I had a sister.”

Teresa doesn’t startle his sudden words. Instead, she turns slightly and examines the pain on his face. James isn’t looking at her anymore, focusing on his feet. “What happened to her?”

“She died.” He doesn’t offer up more information and she doesn’t ask for it, knowing firsthand that some things are just too personal to think about for too long.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me,” she replies simply, “with something like that.”

For a second, she thinks that he hasn’t heard her, but his response comes so quietly she has to strain her ears to hear it. “Thank you for listening.”

He hasn't said much, but she hears what goes unspoken. _Thanks for asking me about things other than drugs and violence. Thanks for letting me be vulnerable. Thanks for seeing me as a human instead of a weapon._

They don’t talk much after that.

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first time writing for qots and i rlly hope that it's all right! i binge watched the entire show in like 5 days and im honestly obsessed akfogjrih
> 
> ANYWAY im on tumblr @[jynirso](https://jynirso.tumblr.com)! feel free to send me prompts/come talk to me about the show!


End file.
